


The Return of Ys

by bumblebeug (Madsmadsmads)



Series: Felinette November 2019 [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, based loosely on the legend of ys, felinette - Freeform, myths, the return of ys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madsmadsmads/pseuds/bumblebeug
Summary: I have no idea what happened here. Once I started writing, the creative spirit just took me over. I know that the prompt is Felinette Myths and it implies a oneshot, but I think that I might make a mini-story out of the prompt. Also, I should mention- there is an actual Legend of the City of Ys but I took some Major artistic liberties with it to better suit my storytelling needs. So, uh, here’s my wacky take on Felinette Day 8: Myths.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Félix
Series: Felinette November 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533356
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	The Return of Ys

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what happened here. Once I started writing, the creative spirit just took me over. I know that the prompt is Felinette Myths and it implies a oneshot, but I think that I might make a mini-story out of the prompt. Also, I should mention- there is an actual Legend of the City of Ys but I took some Major artistic liberties with it to better suit my storytelling needs. So, uh, here’s my wacky take on Felinette Day 8: Myths.

It was an uncharacteristically cold evening when Rolland arrived at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. He entered without knocking and sat down upon a stool near the warmth of the oven – which was even at this late hour still baking bread.

“Ah,” his deep voice rumbled with contentment.

Hearing the noise, Tom peered through the doorframe at his father, “Dad, what an unexpected surprise.”

“Baking so late into the evening?” Rolland smiled at his son and tapped the oven with a knuckle,

“That is not how it is done.” Both father and son said simultaneously. There was no animosity behind the phrase, not anymore. Ever since Marinette had re-united her family for her father’s birthday the phrase that had once caused so much strife had transformed into a private family amusement.

“Would you like anything Dad? Tea?” Tom offered.

“Just the pleasure of spending time with my family, please.” Rolland said from his seat, then added as an afterthought, “And perhaps if it isn’t too much trouble… some of those desserts your wife makes. I can never remember its name…chien dough? The ones that are rolled in sesame?”

“I’ll be just a moment.”

~

Sabine and Marinette wrapped their arms around Rolland.

“What’s this I hear about you wanting Jian Dui?” Sabine asked playfully.

Rolland made a vague gesture with his hands and admitted with slight difficulty, “They never come out right when I try to make them.”

“Alright, just this once – I will make them,” Sabine pointed her finger at Rolland, “On the condition that you’ll stop by next week for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Deal.” Rolland winked at Marinette as soon as Sabine disappeared into the kitchen, “Like I would miss an important family dinner like that. That is not how it is done.”

Marinette smiled and pulled a stool next near him, proud of how much her grandfather had chosen to learn of her culture. “Pépère, I’ve been meaning to ask you – I’ve been working on a school project on mythology for English – do you know any interesting ones?”

Rolland leaned forward, resting his arms on his lap, “I know a great many Gaulish mythologies. I can talk about the Fee, or fairy – as the term as been popularized, I can talk about the midnight washerwomen, and I can even talk about the Legend of Ys.”

Marinette perked, “The legend of Ys? What’s that about?”

“There are many versions about the City of Ys but I can only tell you the story the way my Grandmère told it to me.”

Marinette nodded.

“Once, long ago, before France had become the way it is now stood the city of Ys. It had been built on land stolen from the sea and was ruled over by the good King Gradlon. It was a rich city in both tradition and wealth. To protect this city from the hungry mouth of the sea, King Gradlon had a dike built whose gates would open for ships at low-tide. It was the King’s responsibility to open the gates of the dike. Every week, at low tide, the King would use a key to open the gates to welcome in the boats of foreign traders. However, where-ever riches accumulate so too does rot.”

Rolland paused and took a drink of the water that Marinette offered him before continuing:

“You see, the king had grown tired of the responsibility of opening and closing and opening and closing the gates. So, the king did what he believed was the logical thing and handed down the key to his daughter Dahut. Dahut was a kind girl but was easily swayed by others. Without her father’s knowledge, Dahut had been courting The Red Knight and she was eager to prove her love for him.

Knowing this, the Red Knight, who had been sent to Ys at the behest of a jealous neighboring monarch who believed that Ys was stealing riches that should have rightfully been theirs, plied Dahut with honeyed wine convinced her that the only way he’d know her love was true was if she opened the gates of Ys.

‘But it is high tide,’ Dahut said.

‘Then you must not love me,’ The Red Knight replied.

‘People will drown,’ Dahut protested.

‘If your love for me is true, then the waters flow through the gate,’ The Red Knight stated.

Dahut knew her own heart and went up to the gates, confident in her love, turned the key, and threw open the gates. Immediately, water poured through the doors – drowning the riches, the people, and finally the city.”

Marinette had scooted to the edge of her seat as Rolland talked.

“But there must be more to the story!” Marinette gasped.

Sabine arrived and placed a plate of the jian dui in front of the two. Rolland took his time in selecting one before popping it in his mouth.

“Yes, yes, there is more,” he comforted.

“Dahut didn’t drown. Instead, as the waters rose, she found herself transformed into a sea morgen – I think you would call such a creature a mermaid nowadays, and left to lead an entirely different life. Now, Marinette – the Grand City of Ys was drowned, but never really left. They say if Paris is swallowed, the City of Ys will rise again and whoever first sees the Castle’s spires will become King of the City.”

Rolland slapped his hand on his knees, “Now there’s a story eh? But now it’s gotten late, and you have school tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and chat with your parents for a while before I go to bed myself.”

Marinette got up from her seat and gave her grandfather a peck on the cheek, “Thank you for the story Pépère, it’ll make a great subject for my English project.”

“Anytime, dear.”


End file.
